Hot Topics:

Leominster vet takes trip of a lifetime

By Alana Melanson, amelanson@sentinelandenterprise.com

Updated:
11/13/2012 07:11:46 AM EST

LEOMINSTER -- Like many World War II veterans, Fernand Frechette, 92, thought he may never see the memorial in Washington, D.C., dedicated to the war he and so many other young men fought in the 1940s.

Advertisement

Though planning for the memorial began in the late 1980s and early 1990s, it was not completed until 2004.

The project hit many speed bumps along the way, including changing locations and designs, in order to appropriately memorialize the brave members of the military who fought and gave their lives, while not taking away from other nearby memorials.

By the time it was finished, memorials for later wars, such as Korea and Vietnam, had long been completed. Many World War II veterans died before they could ever see it.

Thanks to a New Hampshire-based non-profit organization called Honor Flight New England, Frechette and other World War II veterans throughout the region are now getting that chance -- at absolutely no cost to the veteran.

Run by retired police officer Joe Byron of Hooksett, N.H., Honor Flight New England's goal is simple: to bring as many living veterans as possible to see the memorials dedicated to them in the capital, starting with the oldest and most in danger of being lost.

According to the organization, which is the local arm of the national Honor Flight Network, World War II veterans are dying at a rate of about 1,000 per day.

On Oct. 14, Frechette and about 60 other veterans were flown to Washington for the day and given what Frechette's daughter, Denise Muth, calls "the red carpet treatment."

Starting at 5 a.m. at Logan Airport, the veterans were greeted by rows of state police, firefighters and members of the military, all saluting them along the way, and Harley-Davidson bikers who shook each of their hands individually and thanked them for their service.

When they landed in Baltimore, it started all over again, Frechette said, with military saluting and a motorcade with more Harley riders, and state police with their lights flashing and sirens blaring, following them all the way to Washington.

The first stop was the long-awaited World War II monument, which was a very emotional sight to behold for Frechette and his fellow veterans -- a wall of 4,000 gold stars, each representing 100 veterans -- 400,000 total -- who lost their lives in battle.

"It was one of the most beautiful things I've seen in my life," Frechette said.

"Everywhere they went, there was someone there to shake their hand and thank them," said Muth, who was able to attend as a veteran guardian for $400.

At the memorial, the 62 veterans lined up to take a group picture, and throngs of tourists and vacationers gathered around, curious to find out what was going on. After the picture, the crowds erupted in applause for the veterans, Muth said, which was a touching moment for the veterans and their family members alike.

She said it's a shame that so many World War II veterans never got a chance to see the memorial.

"It's something that I'll carry with me the rest of my life, that I was able to do this with my dad," Muth said.

The veterans also visited other memorials in the capital, including the Korean and Vietnam war memorials, and saw the changing of the guard at Arlington National Cemetery. At the Vietnam wall, Frechette scratched on paper the name of his nephew, Francis, who was killed in action.

The flights for the veterans were donated by Ocean State Job Lot, and various restaurants and businesses donated all sorts of food, beverages and goodies for them throughout their trip. They were told to leave their money at home, because everything was free. The guardians were also told, Muth said, that if they saw any veteran trying to buy a souvenir or anything to stop them, pay for it themselves and the organization would reimburse them.

"They took care of us like you would not believe," Frechette said.

Even the whole way back to Boston -- where they arrived around midnight -- there were more police, firefighters and folks from the military waiting to salute and thank them.

"It's a day I'll never forget," Frechette said. "Every veteran should see that."

He made good friends, especially with two other French Canadian veterans, who spoke French with each other throughout the trip -- but they never once spoke about their experiences in the war.

For several years after Frechette returned, like many other World War II veterans, he never spoke to anybody -- not even his wife -- about what he saw during the war. He, like the others, were just happy to be able to come back and pick up their lives again.

"War is hell, and when you've never been, pray that you're glad you're not there," Frechette said.

Many times, he wished that he'd been declared "4-F," or not fit for duty.

Frechette grew up in the Cleghorn neighborhood of Fitchburg. In June 1942, he married his sweetheart, Jeannette Godin, and moved to Leominster with her. He received his draft papers at his mother's house the day of his wedding, and in October of that year, Frechette entered the U.S. Army at age 23.

He sailed over to Glasgow, Scotland, on the RMS Queen Elizabeth with more than 15,000 other troops, including then-world heavyweight boxing champion Joe Louis and fellow boxer Sugar Ray Robinson.

He arrived in Normandy, France, 19 days after D-Day with Gen. George S. Patton's Third U.S. Army. He traveled throughout France, Luxembourg, Belgium, Germany and Austria during his duty, which would last three and a half years. As the only French-speaking member of his company, he earned the nickname "Frenchie," and his language skills were to put to use on many occasions, communicating with French speakers who knew of locations of German soldiers.

When Frechette arrived in Germany, he knew only the German words for one, two, and three, and left speaking fluently.

Frechette spent most of his service behind a radio, he said, copying down German code which others would then decipher. Having spent so much time with earphones on listening to code -- which would alternate being very soft and then very loud, without warning -- is what he attributes to the hearing problems he has today.

"We never knew what we were copying, but one message came back from one of our officers, and we were right on the German border, and there's the Meuse River running by, and we're on this side, the Germans were on that side, and one of our boys copied a code, where during the night, the Germans were gathering and they were going to cross the river and attack us, and where we were, we were very light on troops," he said, referring to the well-known Battle of the Bulge.

With this message, Frechette said, Patton called for extra infantry troops to come, traveling all night to provide reinforcement. As soon as the Germans began to cross the river, "the river was red with blood," he said.

If it hadn't been for his fellow radio officer copying that message, Frechette said, he wouldn't be here today.

"I went into the concentration camps. I went in there, I saw these poor people... oh, gosh," he said, his voice wavering and his eyes beginning to fill with tears.

Frechette says he "came home a nervous wreck."

"As kids, my mother always taught us, if the telephone rang, and it was for him, not to touch him to wake him up," Muth said. "We all learned to just yell from the door wherever he was, that he had a phone call, but we weren't to touch him, because he would wake up ready to fight."

Only 25 years ago was Frechette finally diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder -- more than 40 years after he'd returned from the war.

"It's been a rough life, and the war did affect me an awful lot. I get depressed very easily, I get nervous at the drop of a hat. It's never left me," he said. "But that little girl took care of me. She made my life a happy life."

Throughout 69 years of marriage, Frechette says he and his wife never went to bed without kissing good night, and never got up without kissing each other good morning. They had three children together -- Gary, Denise and Alan. Jeannette Frechette passed away in June 2011 at the age of 88, and he misses her dearly.

When Frechette came back from the war, he worked in various jobs, making shoes and clock cases in Fitchburg, then rope in Shirley, before being hired by the Leominster DPW and then moving on to work in the city's veterans services department until he retired at 65, making sure that veterans were taking advantage of all of the benefits due to them.

He still drives a car at 92 and is in excellent health except for arthritis in his knee.

Welcome to your discussion forum: Sign in with a Disqus account or your social networking account for your comment to be posted immediately, provided it meets the guidelines. (READ HOW.)
Comments made here are the sole responsibility of the person posting them; these comments do not reflect the opinion of The Sentinel and Enterprise. So keep it civil.